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Ernst: Want to read county emails? Pay up

Published: Tuesday, September 18, 2012 at 5:13 p.m.

Last Modified: Tuesday, September 18, 2012 at 5:13 p.m.

When it comes to their emails, the Sarasota County commissioners have adopted an approach familiar to cable television subscribers: It’s called pay-per-view.

That’s right.

Even when it involves commission business, which is our business, much of their correspondence does not appear on the public server. Unless they respond to an email, it never shows up for anyone else to read.

Want to see it? Then, you have to file a public records request and fork over some cash.

Herald-Tribune reporter Carrie Wells paid $86 for six weeks of emails that resulted in a Sept. 4 article. The problem is that public records aren’t really so public if you have to pay to see them. Anyone who can’t afford the price becomes a second-tier citizen.

Really, this is ridiculous in a state with one of the most aggressive public records laws in the nation, at a time when government is struggling to retain the trust of its populace.

And the pay-per-view image does raise the suspicion that the commissioners, like the cable companies, are holding back their juiciest offerings from the masses.

Or, maybe the commissioners have something to hide. The funny thing is, they probably don’t, at least nothing that’s going to come out in an email exchange.

So why the secrecy?

The rationale for selective exposure rings hollow: Someone who writes the commissioners may not realize others can read the email; someone might say something offensive; open access might inhibit county staff from being candid.

Those apprehensions come with open government, but the benefits of an engaged and informed public render them inconsequential.

In the few cases in which government dealings demand private communication, there’s always the telephone or face-to-face contact.

Commissioner Christine Robinson fretted that totally opening the commissioners’ email box might turn turn the county’s online site into a community message board. That happened to Venice, she said.

True, but encouraging people to exchange ideas and observations not only with their elected leaders but with each other is hardly a problem. And, the volume of emails that Venice encountered when it opened its email server several years ago has since dissipated.

Perhaps the most compelling argument for opening all electronic communication to public viewing lies in the fact that other governments are doing it, to the satisfaction of most and with no dire consequences.

Sarasota County Administrator Randall Reid can testify to that, having experienced it with two of his former employers, Martin and Alachua counties. At 5 p.m. each Friday, Martin County dumps all its commission emails onto its server. Alachua does it daily. Both have been doing it for years.

“I don’t think it stops corruption,” Reid says. “But it does let people see the tone and dialog.”

Not that he’s advocating one way or the other. In those counties, Reid says, he simply carried out the policies requested by his bosses.

In Sarasota, Commissioner Joe Barbetta is the lone advocate for full transparency. “We’re public servants,” he says. “Even our finances are all public.”

However, barring a public outcry, the status quo will prevail, and if that outcry comes in the form of emails to the commissioners, it may be like the tree falling in the forest with no one to hear it. Unless they pay, of course.

<p>When it comes to their emails, the Sarasota County commissioners have adopted an approach familiar to cable television subscribers: It's called pay-per-view.</p><p>That's right.</p><p>Even when it involves commission business, which is our business, much of their correspondence does not appear on the public server. Unless they respond to an email, it never shows up for anyone else to read.</p><p>Want to see it? Then, you have to file a public records request and fork over some cash.</p><p>Herald-Tribune reporter Carrie Wells paid $86 for six weeks of emails that resulted in a Sept. 4 article. The problem is that public records aren't really so public if you have to pay to see them. Anyone who can't afford the price becomes a second-tier citizen.</p><p>Really, this is ridiculous in a state with one of the most aggressive public records laws in the nation, at a time when government is struggling to retain the trust of its populace.</p><p>And the pay-per-view image does raise the suspicion that the commissioners, like the cable companies, are holding back their juiciest offerings from the masses.</p><p>Or, maybe the commissioners have something to hide. The funny thing is, they probably don't, at least nothing that's going to come out in an email exchange.</p><p>So why the secrecy?</p><p>The rationale for selective exposure rings hollow: Someone who writes the commissioners may not realize others can read the email; someone might say something offensive; open access might inhibit county staff from being candid.</p><p>Those apprehensions come with open government, but the benefits of an engaged and informed public render them inconsequential.</p><p>In the few cases in which government dealings demand private communication, there's always the telephone or face-to-face contact.</p><p>Commissioner Christine Robinson fretted that totally opening the commissioners' email box might turn turn the county's online site into a community message board. That happened to Venice, she said.</p><p>True, but encouraging people to exchange ideas and observations not only with their elected leaders but with each other is hardly a problem. And, the volume of emails that Venice encountered when it opened its email server several years ago has since dissipated.</p><p>Perhaps the most compelling argument for opening all electronic communication to public viewing lies in the fact that other governments are doing it, to the satisfaction of most and with no dire consequences.</p><p>Sarasota County Administrator Randall Reid can testify to that, having experienced it with two of his former employers, Martin and Alachua counties. At 5 p.m. each Friday, Martin County dumps all its commission emails onto its server. Alachua does it daily. Both have been doing it for years.</p><p>“I don't think it stops corruption,” Reid says. “But it does let people see the tone and dialog.”</p><p>Not that he's advocating one way or the other. In those counties, Reid says, he simply carried out the policies requested by his bosses.</p><p>In Sarasota, Commissioner Joe Barbetta is the lone advocate for full transparency. “We're public servants,” he says. “Even our finances are all public.”</p><p>However, barring a public outcry, the status quo will prevail, and if that outcry comes in the form of emails to the commissioners, it may be like the tree falling in the forest with no one to hear it. Unless they pay, of course.</p><p><EL-4></p><p><RA@BYLINERULE,0,4,0,0,0.5,50><EL1.8>Eric Ernst's column runs Wednesdays, Fridays and Sundays. Contact him at eric.ernst@heraldtribune.com or (941) 486-3073.</p>